I think every parent has a few moments they are not proud of; I know I had my first devastating parenting moment when Connor was only a few days old. I was exhausted and in pain, and trying to breastfeed at 3am. Connor would not latch on, and he was fidgeting and fighting like crazy. I smacked him on the head. A tiny, insignificant little smack, not enough to really do anything but surprise him, which it did… and then I decided I was the worst mom on the planet (that also threw me into weeks of depression, which was fun). I’ve decided that a bunch of times, actually, and last night I decided I’m going to change it.
Connor was a butt last night, he really was. We had a good evening, as it usually is, until 9:40 when I was finally telling him “Good night” for the last time. It’s always like this – he has this strict regimen of things to go through in preparation for sleep (not entirely directed by us, because he’s the one who insists on it all now), but when it comes down to actually sleeping, he fights it like a mad man. He doesn’t only fight it, he’s defiant and manipulative while he’s fighting it. If I ever warn him that he needs to be quiet or I’m going to shut his door, he doesn’t hear the “be quiet” part, only the “shutting the door” part, and he immediately screams out “BUT WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO OPEN IT?!?!” It’s very aggravating.
Last night I was pretty sure it would be a pleasant night, because when I left his room finally (no fighting involved), he was being somewhat quiet, and usually if I go downstairs and mess around in the kitchen for a while, he’ll calm down and sleep. But not last night. He talked, he sang, when I asked him to be quieter, he yelled louder, he insisted that he needed to “pick his nose in the bathroom”, he said he was having nightmares (he hadn’t slept a minute). I had a headache, I’m irritable, and I’m pregnant, and I went off the deep end. Several times. At midnight, he was still coming onto the top of the stairs and yelling stuff, and I spanked his butt hard, like 4 times. I forcefully put him in his bed, much more forcefully than I ever should have. I SCREAMED at the top of my lungs, and I wasn’t swearing, but the voice coming out of my body was not mine, and if I were a child I know I would be scared shitless.
Is this the kind of mother I want to be?
After my blood pressure went down, I sat down on the couch and cried for a long time. Then I went online and looked up things, ranging from anti-spanking websites, to anger control support groups, to parenting advice from random strangers, and I’m certain now that spanking is no longer going to be in my repertoire, or in Craig’s, for that matter. I grew up with it, and I will admit that I’m a well behaved and decent human being now, but I think that something was unhinged within me during the many spankings I received (I think of all of my sisters, I may have got the most), and it’s an angry fury that I sometimes cannot control. If I allow myself even the backup plan of a tiny swat on the butt for doing something really wrong, I’m letting myself have too much slack. I just can’t do it, can’t mention it, can’t support it, can’t have my child exposed to that part of me anymore. I explained to him this morning that mommy was wrong for spanking him so hard last night, and he’s so innocent that he was very understanding about it all. He shouldn’t be understanding! He should be upset about it, but I think that children handle things differently than adults, and maybe his coping method is to be outwardly fine, but he’s building up the same wall of distrust that I built when I was a kid.
I’m not saying that I was raised wrong, because at the time (and probably some people still think that this is the time), that was the way parents disciplined their children. I don’t think many of my friends had quite the same strict rules that we had, and I know they didn’t get spanked with a board, but they got swatted. Their mothers would smack them across their faces for talking back or swearing, and the whole “child abuse” thing wasn’t really mentioned all that much. The next generation of kids took it to the opposite end of the spectrum; they all had “time out” in their well-stocked rooms, where they could play video games and watch TV without any interruptions from their pestering parents. And now, here I am, with SuperNanny to tell me one way (the “naughty seat”), and my upbringing telling me I should handle this child a different way… and I’m really having a hard time with either.
Is there something else I can do? I asked Connor to brainstorm with me this morning, and he said he’s going to try to be good from now on. I don’t want my kid to think he’s bad; he’s a GREAT person, and the nighttime issues we have aren’t reflecting who he really is. The dinnertime battles we have are the same, it’s just that he’s really thinking for himself all the time, and doesn’t realize (or doesn’t want to realize) that he’s not in control of everything. Actually, he’s not in control of much, and I think that really bothers him. How do I give him more control over his life, while still being the parent to direct him and guide him in the things he hasn’t yet learned?
I don’t like this parenting thing. As I’m sitting here typing this, Elly is constantly nudging me in the belly, reminding me that I need to overcome this dislike soon, because it’s not going to be any easier when she comes along. There’s just too much responsibility involved.
Ugh. And a puppy soon, too. I’m insane.
